While walking through the camp one day
I heard a booming voice,
“Send out your best for me to slay.
You need to make your choice.”
The men in camp were struck with fear;
they saw the giant’s size.
and then they saw his sword and spear;
to face him was unwise.
I looked across to judge the threat
and got a sudden chill;
but thought, my God is bigger yet.
I pray he’s with me still.
He helped me kill a lion, bear;
with God I know I can.
I’ll go and face this giant’s dare.
He’s only just a man.
With staff in hand and five smooth stones,
all tucked away in pouch;
I felt no more than skin and bones
compared to this old grouch.
The giant cursed, “Am I a dog?
You come at me with sticks?”
Annoyed with foolish dialogue,
I let my gaze affix.
I said, “You think you’re big and tough;
you come at me with swords.
I’m here to say you’re not enough,
this battle is the Lord’s.”
I quickly ran to battle line
while winding up the sling
and then it flew, a path divine,
with mighty final swing.
My aim was true; the path was straight,
the stone then hit the mark.
This little man, considered great,
has no more bite or bark.
For great is man in his own eyes
unless compared to God;
for then his boasts are filled with lies,
he’s nothing but a fraud.
So when you face a giant’s dare
or battle evil hordes,
just fall on knees and say a prayer;
the battle is the Lord’s.
This poem was a finalist in the January 2019 poetry contest